


Keys

by ComicBooksBro



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Claire Novak-centric, Dead Castiel (Supernatural), Dead Winchesters (Supernatural), Gen, Hunter Claire Novak, Post-Season/Series 15, Sad Claire Novak, The Impala (Supernatural), no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26951620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComicBooksBro/pseuds/ComicBooksBro
Summary: Claire Novak receives a very important package.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Keys

**Author's Note:**

> Written because I like to make myself sad.

Claire Novak opened the door to her hatchback and sighed.

She was tired, werewolf blood was caked into her jeans, and the air conditioning in her car had gone out. All she wanted to do was get home, take a shower, and sleep. She grabbed her duffle bag, hauled herself out of the car, made her way to the door, and unlocked it. There were a few packages on the stoop, and she dragged them inside--Jody would probably thank her later.

As she started for her room, the label on one of the boxes caught her eye. It was addressed to her. Claire didn’t know why that surprised her, it wasn’t like she had a PO Box people could send could stuff too, but then again, she didn’t have very many friends to send her stuff. She picked it back up and carried it to her room.

She could open it after a shower.

***

Her hair still wet, Claire sat against the wall of her room, the mystery box in front of her. It was small and rough-looking; Claire had no idea what could be inside of it, let alone who sent it to her. She grabbed a pocketknife off her side table and slid the blade over the tape holding the cardboard flaps closed. The tape split easily, and Claire was greeted with brown packing paper. She pushed one of the strips aside, revealing a small, engraved wooden rectangle. Claire lifted it out of the box and flipped it over. It looked familiar, and when she turned it over she could see a seam in it.

“Huh.” She picked the small top open, then, after a moment, figured out the top slat flipped out to the side. A smaller rectangle sat inside, and she slid it up as well. A key rested in a carved niche, and Claire pulled it out, then returned her attention to the key box. She had seen the symbol carved into the wood before, but couldn’t remember where—

The bunker.

This was a key to the men of letters bunker. She quickly placed it back into its wooden holder and folded it back up, her palms sweaty. That wasn’t something she could afford to lose.

It was also strange she had received a key to the bunker in the first place, but she didn’t dwell on that. It didn’t do well to dwell. Claire had learned that early on. But no matter what she told herself, she couldn’t stop the sinking in her stomach as she placed the key next to her crossed legs and returned to looking at the package.

There was something else in the beaten cardboard box, Claire noted squinting at the glint of metal. She pushed aside the brown packing paper, and was greeted with another set of keys. A piece of paper was wrapped around the keyring, and Claire pulled it off and unfolded it.

The note was short, written in a hurried-looking, messy scrawl.

_Take care of her._

_-D_

Claire dropped the keys. _Take care of her._

These were the keys to the Impala. A lump rose in her throat as she realized what that meant.

They hadn’t made it out.

Claire felt numb, and she barely registered the tears that had started to drip down her cheeks. She had known it wasn’t a great sign when they hadn’t called after a few days, but Cas had been flighty before, as had Dean. Sam would normally answer, but there was always a chance the end of the world didn’t have cell reception.

She had told herself they would be fine, and now here she was, with a key to their home to her left, and the keys to Dean’s car in front of her.

_No. This wasn’t right._ Claire pulled out her phone with one hand, and wiped the tears from her face with the other. Her palm came away grey with eyeliner, but she ignored it and typed a number into her phone.

_Please answer please please please please—_

_“This is Dean’s other other cell, so you must know what to do.”_

“Damnit.” She tried again, a different number this time.

_“This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”_

She blinked stinging tears from her eyes, and typed in a third number.

_“Sam can’t talk right now, ‘cause he—“_ Claire terminated the call before the voicemail could end. This wasn’t right. They had _won,_ they should be alive, hunting, or—or doing whatever the hell they wanted. Heart crumbling, it sank in that Claire had lost her second family.

_Take care of her._

Slowly, methodically, Claire stood and placed the keys in her purse, then repacked the duffle bag she had just emptied less than 30 minutes ago. Almost as an afterthought, she grabbed the keys to her own car—and darted down the hall, pausing to leave a note for Jody in the kitchen—and then she was out the door.

She was almost 10 miles down the road before she realized he had no idea where she was going, and pulled off the road to type in the address (or, well, as close as she could get; secret underground bunkers didn’t exactly have an address).

Within a few minutes she was back on the road.

She didn’t look back once.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> <3


End file.
